Chapter 36
I was starting to see why Stannis had bought Melisandre’s scam hook, line, and sinker. The woman was gorgeous and possessed an incredibly sultry voice. She also possessed that je ne sais quoi, as the Republicans would call it. That was another troublesome element to all this. I knew magic existed, after all I could warg. I knew dragons had once existed, and their abilities certainly suggested that they functioned in ways contrary to Newtonian physics. Though of course I couldn’t rule out widespread errors in documenting battles where dragons participated in. I also believed the credible stories from the Wall of the dead rising. That was three instances of magic. Could Melisandre wield more? Could she use some sort of mystical ability to fool the senses and engender feelings of affection for her? I knew Robert was a horndog, but he was practically drooling!
At least he remembered to ask some of the things I had prepped for this meeting. I wasn’t surprised by the answers, but was annoyed at how smoothly she responded to our doubts. I was rather curious to see what performance she would put on with the brazier. Ultimately, I didn’t like her, but if she was gung-ho about fighting the ‘Great Other’ in her strange dualistic religion. Dragonstone and the lords of the narrow sea did not have a large muster, but a few thousand extra soldiers couldn’t hurt.
“While we wait for the servants to bring the brazier and stoke the flames, I was curious, Lady Melisandre. Lord Baratheon stated you came from Asshai, what stories of the Long Night exist, in particular are there any that talk of what weapons were effective against the wights?”
Melisandre looked at me with her red eyes. I wondered if they were contacts or perhaps some sort of dye. On Earth in my prior lives, no humans had red eyes, but this wasn’t either of my previous two lives so I should make allowances for a place with dragons, skinchangers, and seasons that last incomprehensibly long.
“Tales speak of dragonglass weapons given to mankind by the children of the forest that could slay these demons. Beware of the histories as they can sometimes be corrupted. It was the Lord of Light who gave the realms of men the means to defend themselves.”
“Any specific books that you feel provide good information from that era or perhaps explain how your god provided said weapons? I’ve written to the Citadel, but I fear the maesters there view those tomes as just a collection of interesting fables and stories. Which may be accurate, but still worth reviewing. Are there libraries in Asshai? The tales from that place are quite disturbing.”
Melisandre said she did not, as she had a better source of wisdom than the writings of men. The servants arrived with the brazier and lit it. Melisandre cautioned us all to stand back. She circled it and from where we were seated she could make a full circuit around it without going behind us, which meant…
Yup, called it!
When her back was toward us and blocking her hands, the flames suddenly shot up high and flickered green for a brief moment.
“Seven Hells!” Robert shouted.
She circled around and then stopped facing us as she spoke. “I see the past. I see the future. I see the stag beset by lions. But the stag is protected. By…” she paused, sudden shock upon her stunning features. “By…” Her voice trailed off.
“What do you see, Lady Melisandre?” Lady Selyse said in a rapturous voice.
“The wolf slays the lion and the stag is preserved. The wolf wars with the white raven. The seas boil and the hinge of the world is turned back. The dragon… dragons stalk the stag and lion, all is fire, all is obscured!”
Melisandre collapsed, her hand clutching at her neck, agony writ on her face. Whatever ingredient she managed to throw into the brazier through sleight of hand came with the stench of burning flesh. A damned good trick. I could easily see how people of this era could fall for such theatrics. My esteem for the charlatan before me went up a notch.
Ser Davos moved first and took her arm to help Melisandre to her feet.
“That… you will forgive me, Your Grace, but that was unexpected. The flames do not lie.”
Robert was wide-eyed. “But what does it mean?”
Damn it. Now I’m going to have to work overtime to get him back into a disbelieving state.
“The vision… it flickered between the past and the future. The wolf slaying the lion was not of the future, but of the past. The wolf and raven was hazy, obscured, as if I was looking through dirtied glass. But the white raven is associated with the changing of seasons, and we all know the Stark words. It is not too difficult to see that the Starks must face a trying winter. For the rest, I do have impressions, but I must pray upon these visions. The clearest is of the dragons that still stalk you.”
Oh, you sneaky bitch. Of course you would already know about the king’s hatred of the Targaryens and the recent promised lordship. I should have suggested to Robert that any sort of ‘seer’ would claim a threat like that because it would cause him to believe it. I could have disarmed it like I did Cersei’s confession of incest, now I will have to work much harder to do that.
“Aye, the dragonspawn has likely brought forth more. At least the whore’s brother is dead.”
“Assuming these aren’t visions of what may come rather than what will come. Of course since all was obscured, I wonder what set of events could take place that would allow for your visions to ever be disproved.” I said calmly.
Melisandre gave me a weighty look and I felt… something. It was not a pleasant feeling, but my face remained bland.
“I have spent years studying the flames. Only the Lord of Light is infallible, but I tell His Grace the truth, these flames did not lie. Dragons will come for him.”
“I knew it!” The king crowed. “I'll double the coin going to the sellswords Varys has hired.”
Being X could learn a thing or two from her if he wants to be more convincing next time. I wonder if I might be able to squash this waste of coin by reminding the king that the Golden Company was founded by the son of Aegon Targaryen.
It was better to quash his concerns later, once he’d got some distance from this.
“Do you see now, Robert? This was why I could not warn you personally. Melisandre warned me that to return prematurely would merely result in my death and you made no safer for it. You must reinstate me as your heir.”
“You must,” his wife declared, “the Lord of Light wills it.”
I almost laughed at how inept Lady Baratheon was at this. A true believer, yes, but one did her husband no favors.
“I’ll consider it. But I’ve already decided that Tommen is my own blood. No matter what you say or do, that will not change. In truth, the more you insist, the less certain I am your purpose. You seem desperate to become king, does your priestess say you must be king to fulfill this destiny you are to have?”
Stannis moved to speak, but Melisandre cut him off. “There are no prophecies that demand Azor Ahai be a king. There were assumptions given the danger toward you that I foresaw. I saw the lions pulling down the stag. And the lions did come, but the wolf,” her eyes drifted toward me and Visha, “helped slay them.”
Robert was nodding and it was all I could to not roll my eyes. Her vision just now ‘saw’ that after it had happened.
“That was your vision now, or did you have that same vision earlier?” I asked sweetly.
“Just now, when R’hllor granted me a view of the past,” she replied without missing a beat.
Stannis muttered something, and Melisandre looked at him sharply.
“What was that?” Robert asked.
“The prophecies, they spoke of a prince that was promised. I am a prince; I should have seen that I need not be king to fulfill them.”
I heard the shift in Barristan’s armor and glanced at him, but his features were schooled.
Robert laughed. “Well then, this was entertaining. Perhaps I have misjudged you, brother, or perhaps not. Either way this is a joyous day and I will let no dark threats mar it.”
“Perhaps we should wait until my parents respond, Your Grace?”
“Ned will come around, and Cat would want this for you, Sansa. You’ll see, it will be fine.” Robert must have seen the confused expression on Davos and Selyse. Stannis was no doubt also confused, but from this meeting and the glances I had during the trial, it seemed his face was always stone unless actively enraged about something. “I intend to betroth my trueborn son to Sansa Stark. Rhaegar and brigands may have thwarted the mingling of our blood, but as that one phrase in Essos goes, the third time’s a charm.”
I wonder if I’ll need to curtail my ‘Essosi sayings’ now that someone from that continent is actually here. Hopefully she leaves soon.
***
Today had been a wonderful day for the King of the Seven Kingdoms. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders when Sansa had agreed to marry his son. He had been almost all the way there, but that nagging thought that perhaps Sansa had been pushing so hard just out of fondness for the boy she read stories to nightly had been difficult to surmount. Amusingly, the idea had come from Renly, who was the one most opposed to keeping Tommen as his heir.
Renly had proposed a similar test on if Sansa and Arya should remain in King’s Landing as… guests. If they responded favorably to their time in the city, then he would keep them and slay two birds with one arrow. Punish Ned for his then presumed foolishness while also keeping Sansa close by. He had not wanted to part with her, but if she was truly miserable then he would have found some other way to express his displeasure toward his old friend.
I pray that friendship can be mended.
Sansa had reacted with surprise and then gratitude. She had hugged him, thanked him, and said of course she would write to her father. He recalled how her face had fallen.
“Oh, Your Grace, if you should change your mind, I would not blame you. I cannot help but think that you believe you owe me a debt for the day Jaime attacked, but ‘tis not true. I have no doubt they would have done away with me – it was just a ploy to remove Visha from the room. You owe me nothing, and if ever the thought of having your son marry someone already despoiled grows too much, I will not bear any ill will.”
Robert had laughed. “No, no, you are wrong on both counts. It is not why I want Tommen to be wed to you at all. I want you to wed Tommen so he will have the best possible queen. And I will hear no more of this notion that I am not in your debt. I am, more than you can know.”
She had needed to be convinced, the girl was too modest by half, but he was proud that he had finally persuaded Sansa that he did owe her. Without her wolf… and her, he likely would not be alive. His initial thought had been to accept taking a killing blow himself and drive his knife into the eye of whatever whoreson struck him down first. It was only her terse, confident words that had made him want more than to simply slay his killer.
From there she had openly stated how skeptical she was of his brother’s advisor. That Stannis of all people was willing to listen to a witch or priestess was odd, but he would hear it out. She had looked beautiful as she sat watching the trial, but that paled compared to the sensuality she had when she was within arm’s length of him.
If Stannis is fucking her… he’s a lucky man.
He wasn’t sure if R’hllor priestesses were like septas. Thoros didn’t act like a septon. So maybe they weren’t as firm about those things… or maybe Thoros was just a bad priest. All he knew was that he wouldn’t be able to get her body out of his mind for a long, long time.
As far as her claims, Robert had never really believed tales of sorcery. It had smacked too much of the sort of thing Targaryens would get up to. The woman in red had been very persuasive, however. And the way those flames leapt, that was a sure sign something had been going on.
When he had announced to his brother that Tommen was to marry Sansa, Stannis had once more irritated him. His brother had given him a look and asked him if it was Sansa herself who had convinced him that Tommen was his. That it was the girl’s desire to be queen, so no wonder she would push for him being viewed as his proper heir.
Robert had delighted in telling them that Sansa had made those arguments after Robert had told her father directly she would not marry Tommen. She defended the boy before she knew of his desire to wed her to him, which was why, among many other reasons, she was worthy of it. He probably overdid it as Sansa seemed embarrassed by the attention.
Nonetheless, the four left and he was alone with Ser Barristan, Sansa, and Visha.
“Ser Barristan, I had not taken you for a scholar. Were you aware of the prophecies of the prince that was promised?”
“I’m not, my lady. It is…” he turned toward Robert, “forgive me, Your Grace. It involves service to a prior king. I am not sure you would like to hear it.”
Robert was in a good mood. His children were his own, how could he not be pleased?
“Go on, Selmy, it isn’t as if the mere mention of the Targaryens will draw my ire.”
He did his best to ignore Ser Barristan’s momentary disbelieving expression.
“Very well. King Jaehaerys commanded King Aerys to marry his sister Rhaella because a wood’s witch who came with Jenny of Oldstones that claimed that the prince that was promised would be born of their line. The dragon lords put great stock in prophecy, and it brought great ruin to their line.”
Sansa nodded with queen-like stateliness. “No wonder you reacted. Thank you for indulging my curiosity. I agree with your assessment that relying on these sorts of things turns out poorly. It was intriguing how Stannis and Ser Davos both seemed a bit surprised at Melisandre talking about how some confuse what will be with what could be. I’d wager she left that out until some vision failed to come to pass completely.”
Robert hadn’t noticed, but Sansa’s bright blue eyes rarely missed such things. He could tell she was dismissive of it, much like maesters were dismissive of all sorts of talk of magic. If his former Grand Maester was here he too would cast doubt upon the likes of Melisandre.
“Something happened with the fire.”
“Something did, when her back was turned to us,” Sansa commented wryly.
“You think it was mummery?” Robert asked genuinely.
“Yes, Your Grace. It is the way of such things. There may be some true sorcery that exists in the world. Mayhaps she even has some, but when the hands are not visible and then ‘magic’ happens I would always wager on it being a trick of some sort. I fear I must make apologies to Lord Baratheon at some point, however. I told you it would take a cruel man to make such bold claims without proof, but I believe his intentions were not based in malice. A beautiful woman with a mummer’s gift can lead many men astray.”
Robert laughed. “Aye, I can see that. She…” remembering who he was talking to, he quickly coughed. “Yes, well, it pleases me that you think the best of my kin, but here you are mistaken. Stannis has always been a petty spiteful man who sees slights wherever he goes. I’ve not yet decided if I wish to forgive his lapse in judgement.”
“As you say, it most like cuts deeper for you as one would expect a brother to be the most loyal. Still, I hope not to see grief and animosity remain constant between you and your brother. I know I could not bear it if that occurred with my own. He seems wholly convinced that he is this legendary figure. Growing up in your shadow may have something to do with that, but why not make use of it to give him what he wants and help my father as well?”
Robert grinned. This is why he loved Sansa. She turned foul to fair better than any he knew.
***
“Why did I learn more of your visions today than I have had at any other time?” Stannis demanded, once they were ensconced in their quarters within the Red Keep.
Davos saw the ruby at her throat catch the light of the fire in their room. Melisandre walked directly to the far side of the room. Davos was confused until she turned away.
“Have care my lord, do not raise your voice here, for the Spider’s little birds reside within these walls.”
Stannis whirled and walked to the wall. Pressing at it and putting his ear to it.
“There are no secret passages from this room to what lies between these walls, but the wall was built thin in that section. As my footsteps neared, the Spider’s children fled.”
Davos heard the teeth of Stannis grind.
“Good, but that does not answer my question.”
Melisandre lowered her head. “My visions are accurate. I spoke to you truly. They are simply not always perfect. But I have seen you consistently and over and over again within the flames. You are Azor Ahai, never doubt that. Do not let the clever wolf child sway you.”
“She was clever,” Ser Davos muttered. “Makes me wonder why I didn’t think to ask the same questions.”
“The girl was impudent.” Selyse said angrily. “And that despoiled girl is to be our queen? Wed to an abomination? His Grace will be the laughing stock of all the realm.”
“The Lord of Light will provide a solution.” Melisandre looked at Stannis. “I did not share all that I saw. The girl has the blood of the Kings of Winter in her veins. She is dangerous.”
The muscles in Stannis’ jaw tightened.
“What more did you see?” Stannis demanded.
“She is the wolf whose howls shake the world. Books burn. Words go unspoken. Death does not fall. The flames devour what is to come. Much is lost in the smoke of the pyre. I spoke true, but did not point to her as the cause. She is at the center of the undoing.” Melisandre’s words grew strained. "The deeper I gazed, the more the flames seared my life-fire in a way that should not be."
Stannis scowled. “What does that mean?”
“That is something I must pray for guidance on. I trust the Lord of Light will illuminate everything in due time.” Melisandre’s face unlined was confident. “This is not a setback, perhaps it is even an opportunity. There is power in blood of the old Kings of Winter. Remember well, Lightbringer must still be drawn before the end.”
Stannis gave a grim nod.
Davos did not like that sound of that at all, but he held his tongue.
***
Ned woke from his dream as dawn arrived.
Promise me.
He wasn’t sure what had prompted it. Jon was safe in Winterfell and he was in the North far from Robert. He broke his fast and received the report from Ser Mallador. The ranger reported that the axe and wine had been to Craster’s liking and he had marked on the map where Mance Rayder was gathering the ‘free folk.’
“Here,” Mallador pointed, “the Frostfangs. It is a cruel wilderness of stone and ice. If we want to learn more of the fate of your brother, or talk of the dead not staying that way, that will be where we get answers.”
Ser Rodrik intruded. “Your pardon, my lord, but one of Craster’s wives wishes to speak with you.”
Mallador stiffened. “I’ve no love for the wildling, but the man said that we were to stay away from them.”
“She came to us,” Rodrik spoke, “and Lord Stark should hear her tale.”
Ned gave the nod and a thin young woman entered the tent. She was only a few years older than Sansa.
“My father drank overmuch of the wine last night. I wanted to speak to you m’lord. They say the Starks, they are, well you, I mean, that you are men of justice.”
“Child, there is no need to fear. I will not harm you.” Ned said sympathetically. The girl was shivering and it was not from cold.
“Just tell him what you told me, Gilly.” Rodrik spoke gently.
“I’ve missed my moon’s blood, it means I’ve to have a baby. Nella says it’s to be a boy.” A tear fell from her face. “If it was to be a girl, that’s not so bad, she’ll grow a few years and he’ll marry her.”
Ned felt his stomach roil in disgust at such a practice.
“But he gives the boys to the gods. Come the white cold, he does, and of late it comes more often. That’s why he started giving them sheep, even though he has a taste for mutton. Only now there’s only a few sheep left. Next it will be his dogs, till…”
“What do you mean he gives them to the gods?” Ned asked perplexed.
“He leaves them out at night. The cold gods then come and take them. The white shadows.”
Ned felt his heart race. Could this girl be talking about the wights?
“Have you seen them? Yourself?” Ned asked.
“I have, m’lord. They scare me. They don’t take nothing but what he leaves as sacrifice to the gods, but they move queerly and appear from nowhere. And the eyes… bright as blue stars and as cold.”
Umber said the men who rose the dead had blue eyes in death, even if their color in life was different.
Ned asked what she wished, and she wanted to go with them. So that her baby boy wouldn’t be sacrificed to Craster’s gods.
Promise me.
“Gilly, you will be given safe passage to the other side of the Wall. How many more of your sisters would wish to leave?”
She bit her lip. “I don’t know m’lord. We is all afraid. It’s the only place we’ve known. I’d not have asked if it weren’t for my babe.”
“Remain here. Ser Rodrik, gather some men. It is time we learned what Craster knows about the wights as well as put an end to this.”
“You can’t, my lord. You told us you wouldn’t,” Ser Mallador insisted. “Believe me you’ll not find a shred of care for these savages from me, but we dined under his roof.”
“You did, ser, I did not. No bread and salt were given to me. You and your brothers are not a part of this. This is my business. Stand aside.”
Mallador obeyed and an angry Craster was soon dragged before him.
“False friends! Treacherous crows! The gods will take you!”
“The Night’s Watch told me to leave you be, but I am not of them, that was my brother. I asked for information about wights. You did not tell me what you know. Worse, you give your own kin to be killed by them as some twisted offering. By all laws of men and gods you are a blight on this world. It is hard to imagine, but your fornication with your own daughters isn’t even the worst of your crimes. But I will give you mercy, I will let you leave with your life, if you tell me all you know about your ‘gods’ and their comings and goings.”
Craster snarled and raged and tried to spit in Ned’s face, but his guards held him fast and twisted him away when he attempted to do so. Some of Craster’s wives were wailing. Some tried to run.
“Stop them, I’ll not see them harmed in a blind panic. Do not hurt them,” Ned commanded.
“I’ll tell you nothing, kneeler. I abide by no law other than my own. But have the courage to face me like a man. On your feet for once in your wretched life.”
Ned briefly recalled Sansa’s indignation at the very idea of trial by combat. That all evidence and truth must be put aside and it be a simple manner of who had the better champion. Craster was calling him out to fight and there was no sense in indulging him. And yet…
“Ser Rodrik, fetch me Ice. I will fight him.”
A raven screamed. “Ice, fire, ice!”
Qhorin told me that when we set off Mormont’s raven had come with, but that it never stayed in the cages. Now I wonder why Sansa didn’t use a raven instead of a cat to communicate at Winterfell.
Some of his guards protested. One of Cerwyn’s men suggested that a quick death gained them nothing. He requested a few days to soften him up and he’d talk.
“No. I will not do what the Targaryen kings of old did. I will not use sharp question to draw out answers that may or may not be true. For all we know he will speak falsehoods designed to harm our aims simply because we are harming him. But more than that, I refuse to dishonor myself by such base means.”
Craster spat curses until they cut his hands free. He was given time to pray, for whatever good that would do him. Meanwhile Ned was quickly armored in full battle attire. Head to toe his body was encased in castle-forged steel. Such armor could not be slashed open by the wildlings axe. That did not make Ned impervious from harm, but it did make him feel that the battle was a foregone conclusion.
Ned accepted Ice from Ser Rodrik. The blade would have been heavy were it made of normal material, but this was Valyrian Steel. He had trained with it, but it was an odd weapon for times of war. Lords rarely fought afoot, and when they did they would have their guard around them. A greatsword like this was impossible to be used astride a horse, and one’s allies would have to stay a fair distance away to avoid being struck. But for a duel? It would suffice, and more importantly it felt right. He was bringing Stark justice to those beyond the Wall.
“I give you one last chance, Craster. Tell me all you know of your gods and I will let you scurry away.”
Craster spat a brownish gob of spittle to the ground and advanced. Ned met him as the braver of Craster's wives looked on. The men of the North cheered. The brothers of the Night's Watch remained silent. Craster hacked at him with his axe, but Ned gave ground and answered with Ice. The great blade was near as tall as he was. The dark and smoky blade had longer reach than Craster’s new axe and the wildling soon took a slash.
The foul kinslayer backed away and Ned followed. There was nowhere for him to run. With a look of fear and then one of fury he charged Ned. Again Ned slashed a blow to the legs of the wildling. The man’s axe tried to block the blow but he was too slow and the rippling blade with its unnatural sharpness opened the leg to the bone. Had Ned used his full strength, it would have sheared the leg clean off, but his father had taught him such great swings were rarely needed.
The wildling collapsed and howled, clutching at the ruin of now crippled leg. Ned stepped forward and ended Craster’s agony with a final stroke.
I’ll not have any linger in agony, no matter how much ‘tis deserved.
“Craster is dead,” Ned said forceful and with the solemnity the act deserved. He forced the men of the North to quiet and spoke to the dead man’s wives. “I know not what depravity he forced upon you but you and yours have a choice. We will give you provisions if you wish to stay north of the Wall. Or you may come with us. My lady wife will care for you and your children and places will be found for you in Winterfell. My men will be ordered to see that no harm come to you. I, Eddard, Lord of House Stark, do so swear by the old gods.”
With some satisfaction, Ned saw that several of the women, some little more than girls, came to inspect the body. One of the older ones asked if they could burn it and Ned nodded. He detailed twenty men to lead them back south of the Wall, none chose to remain here.
A horn sounded.
“That’s a Night’s Watch horn. If it doesn’t sound again, it is likely Qhorin returned.” Ser Mallador said stiffly. No doubt still angry over the Night’s Watch losing a place of potential refuge and news north of the Wall.
“Benjen told me. One blast for rangers returning. Two for wildlings. Three for the Others.”
No second horn blast was sounded and soon Qhorin arrived, and with him many more riders.
To Ned’s surprise more than just Qhorin rode into camp. Ser Beric Dondarrian was with him as well as several other knights from King’s Landing.
“How did this come to be?”
Beric looked sheepish. “The Night’s Watch said they were short on rangers, with you having taken so many. Offered to have me set out with your resupply wouldn’t be for another week. I figured a good map and a direction would lead us to you.”
“It didn’t,” Qhorin said directly, “but I found them before they got into too much mischief. Any more of your southern allies that come, mind that they wait for a guide.”
Ned would include that in the raven home. They couldn’t receive ravens from where they were, but they could always send them back. In order for them to receive word, fast riders would have to be dispatched. That was one of the purposes for the camp at Whitetree. They would have remounts at the ready to send needed word to him.
“Have you found sign of the wights, Lord Stark?” Beric asked.
“Not yet, not directly. But I think you should hear of what some of these wildling women have to say. We will be sending word back to the Wall and Winterfell of what we have found here and what they have said. I would request you write a letter and affix with your seal as well to eventually reach King’s Landing and the king. I would also sit with you and ask how my daughters are faring since I have left.”
His experience will be old and prior to the attempted murder of the king, but I would hear of it nonetheless.
Author's Note: Fun fact - Martin was once asked if Ned used Ice in combat and here was the response:
Asked if Ned ever used Ice in battle. George points out it was a greatsword, very large and cumbersome, a ceremonial sword for beheading people more than a fighting sword, so he suggests that it was "probably too heavy and clumsy" to use unless you're the Mountain. So, I think that's a pretty clear "no". I admit, I was tempted to point out that it was Valyrian steel, not regular steel, so why would the weight matter so much in this case? In particular when the likes of Randyll Tarly and Arthur Dayne are clearly said to have used their own Valyrian/Valyrian-like swords in battle? Tarly is not described as particularly powerful -- in fact he's called lean (doubtless strong and fit, but still, lean) -- and we're told he killed Lord Cafferen with Heartsbane. So... I take this as a firm "no", Ned never used it in battle, but I think George's off-the-cuff explanation doesn't quite fit the facts.
This is actually a very frustrating answer because Ice is Valyrian Steel so is actually lighter than a normal sword. We actually know swords around and greater than Ice's six feet were used in combat. However, I tried to be true to the material and provide reason WHY he wouldn't have used Ice. Ned is a lord of Westeros, so in almost any battle he would be mounted and in that situation Ice would be foolish to use. In the event he has to be on foot he would normally be surrounded by guards for the purpose of protecting him. And yet we also know he brought Ice with him to KL. I think its plausible for Ned to use the blade here, both from the 'feeling' he had and because in a one on one duel against a guy with an axe it isn't a bad weapon at all.
And I wanted him to have that sort of steel up here! Anyway feel free to share your view of giant Valyrian Steel weapons and if it makes sense to use them. Next chapter might be delayed because my computer is shitting a brick anytime I do something more than word processing for some reason and I'm taking it to Geek Squad this evening to find out what's wrong. I have a crusty old laptop I'll write with if it takes more than a couple of days but ugh I'd rather not.